I
missed the mark.
I
could not find the g-spot of this poem.
I
looked and looked.
I
looked high and low.
This
poem is androgynous.
This
poem claims no sexual orientation.
This
poem is a Barbie or Ken doll.
This
poem will whip you for stepping over the line.
This
poem is a chalk outline of its former self.
This
poem is chivalrous and believes in holding the revolving door open for
everybody.
This
poem will do no harm.
This
poems eradicates evil by simply coloring outside the lines.
I
missed the point.
I
could not find the strength to save myself so I named names and became a
pariah.
I
wished and wished.
I
wished on a shooting star and a tortilla chip that resembled our savior.
This
poem is apolitical.
This
poem resists the notion of holding any type of office whatsoever.
This
poem is a tall drink of water and a cheap shot to the ribs.
This
poem will give you a standing ovation for standing up to the ghosts in the
machine.
This
poem is a loaded gun and a not so surprising admission of guilt.
This
poem is argumentative and will filibuster if and when the fan blades begin to spin.
This
poem will beat you down for looking at it when it bites into a sandwich.
This
poem is truth serum injected into your milk-blood when you’re on the losing end.
Charles Cicirella
10/12/15
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